Fuzz Hotter
by maestro92
Summary: After taking down the NWA, Nicholas Angel now the Chief Inspector must deal with a new kind of problem: Crusty Jugglers. And he's going to need the help of the entire village to do it.


Chief Inspector Angel strolled casually up behind the hoodies as they defaced the front of the Somerfield with a dirty rainbow of spray paint. Two months, and they were still at it; still provoking the sergeant. Though whether they did it just to provoke him or if it was just force of habit, Nicholas could never figure out. Then again, he didn't care. They were breaking the law. It was as simple as that. Still, the chief inspector had somewhat of a soft spot for them. After all, they had saved his life when Annette Roper was ready to end it with an assault rifle.

"Excuse me," the chief inspector let out coolly. The hoodies turned around. They were all calm for this was at least the tenth time they had been in this situation. But calmest of all was Gabriel, their leader; that little, fair-haired secondary school trouble maker.

Nicholas removed his sunglasses and looked intensely at Gabriel. He couldn't help but remember the remark Frank Butterman had made about the hoodies on Nicholas' first day in Sandford: "They're nippers, Tom. They'll come 'round." This was never an attitude Nicholas had shared, and he suddenly remembered why. He looked to the brick wall of the supermarket behind the hoodies. Scrolled all over it were red cursive "G"'s, in all sizes. "G" for Gabriel. It reminded Nicholas of some sort of cult.

"How many times have I let you all off the hook for this?" Nicholas asked rhetorically. Gabriel just shrugged; he rarely ever spoke. "If I see you doing it again..." Nicholas stopped short. The hoodies stared at him. He sighed loudly. "Get out of here." Nicholas motioned them away with exasperation. They took off like a flock of birds. Nicholas turned to watch them go and decided to tell Danny and the rest to keep an eye out for them. "Inspector Angel to all units, come in," he said into his shoulder-mounted walkie-talkie. Everyone responded at once, most with a simple country grunt. "I want everyone to keep their eyes open for Gabriel Weaver and his friends."

"Alright," they all responded. Then, Danny's voice came through saying, "Oi, Nicholas!"

"Danny?"

"Hey!" Danny exclaimed.

"Danny, what is it?"

"Turn 'round!"

Confused, Nicholas turned and saw Danny standing in the window of the supermarket with a big goofy smile on his face. Nicholas let go of his walkie-talkie. "Danny, what are you doing?"

Danny was still talking into his radio. "What? I can't hear you."

Nicholas sighed and once again clasped his own radio. "What are you doing?"

Danny shrugged. He had learned to sense when Nicholas was upset (which was often) and had learned to not make it worse. But there was that innocent honesty that Danny was never able to get away from. "Just havin' a look. Hey, you want a Cornetto? I think they have the strawberry kind here."

Nicholas sighed and looked down. There he was, the Chief Inspector, communicating by radio to his sergeant who was no more than a meter away. "Danny, just come out here," Nicholas without looking up.

"Hang on, I gotta pay first," Danny said and disappeared farther into the store.

Nicholas stood outside, hanging his head, until Danny emerged a few minutes later. He was unwrapping a snack. "What's that?" Nicholas asked, pointing to the treat.

"Strawberry Cornetto," said Danny, taking a huge bite of the ice cream bar. Nicholas grimaced at him. Danny shrugged. "What? I asked you if you wanted one."

Nicholas and Danny walked back to their car and did their daily rounds of the village. Everything was quiet, as usual. In the town square, as they sat parked on the side of the road in vigilance, Nicholas noticed someone walking along the sidewalk that he had never seen before.

"Who's that?" he asked Danny, thinking maybe it was just a denizen of Sandford he had not yet been introduced to. But he knew this was unlikely.

Danny looked over at the stranger. He was an exceedingly thin young man, with shoulder-length greasy hair and very small features. Danny was puzzled. "I dunno."

"Never seen him before?" Nicholas asked, just to be sure.

"Nope."

He certainly stood out in Sandford, but, he didn't seem threatening. At least, not to the rest of the villagers. But Nicholas was instantly suspicious of him, as he was with every new face on the street. Danny, too, shared this suspicion, although it's needless to say that his was more subdued than the chief inspector's. Danny shrugged and looked away.

"Hey," he said, patting Nicholas' shoulder and drawing his attention to a midget crossing the street up ahead. "It's a dwarf."

"I can see that," Nicholas said. "What's with his outfit?" The midget's outfit was indeed strange: a deep purple tailcoat, a black porkpie hat, and baggy pants the same shade as the jacket.

"Little bastard's jaywalking," Danny said.

Without a word, Nicholas exited the car, with Danny following. They both walked determinedly toward the midget. The little man saw them coming and began walking briskly away from them along the sidewalk. "We may have a runner, Danny," Nicholas said quietly.

"What do we do?" Danny asked.

"Chase him."

They picked up their pace. The midget looked over his tiny shoulder and turned suddenly down a side street. "Split up!" Nicholas shouted and took off after the midget. Danny turned back and ran for the car.

Nicholas turned down the same side street and could see the midget several yards ahead. The dwarf was sprinting as fast as he could with his stubby little legs. They kept up the chase this way for some time, Nicholas never being able to catch the bugger, who was making great use of his size advantage. He would dive through shrubberies that Nicholas was forced to jump; roll through holes in fences that Nicholas had to climb. All the while, Danny was trying his best to follow them on the streets with directions from Nicholas.

Nicholas' face was red and his teeth grated. He panted into his radio, "Any units near Winston Street?"

"Roger that," came in the voice of one of the Andies.

"He's cutting through the gardens!" shouted Nicholas. "Cut him off!"

"Right-o!"

The midget ran under a table being carried by two hapless villagers in their back yard. He looked behind him in fear and didn't see the Andies come around the corner in front of him. Wainwright put his leg out and easily tripped the midget, who slid on his face across the dewey morning grass. Nicholas caught up and entered the back yard.

"Good work, Andies," he said, breathing surprisingly easily for just having run as much as he did.

The midget got to his feet. He stumbled a bit from dizziness. Without warning, Andy Cartwright punched the little man squarely in the face. The midget slumped instantly to the ground.

"Andy!" Nicholas exclaimed.

"What?" Cartwright asked, still clinching his fist in the air.

"I think that was unnecessary," Nicholas walking to the midget.

"What? I thought he was trying to get away again." Wainwright stared at Cartwright and shook his head disdainfully, only following Nicholas' example. "I did!" Cartright insisted.

Nicholas carried the limp little man through the garden to the street, where Danny was just pulling up. Danny leaned his head out the window. "Whoa! Is he dead?" he asked excitedly.

"Unconscious," Nicholas said flatly. The Andies followed and they all entered the squad car, heading back to the station.


End file.
